The "joys" of being a homeowner

This weekend I hate owning this condo. It won't cool off! We're close to breaking a record for Memorial Day heat and humidity – since the mercury isn't dipping much overnight, this brick building is like a brick oven. With the AC going fullblast 24/7, the coolest my bedroom has gotten is 79º. My refrigerator isn't working very well, but the freezer is. The manual suggests this might be because "the room temperature is too hot." I KNOW! I KNOW! I believe my cable box is possessed. It's the only logical explanation for the way fuses have blown with frightening regularity two nights in a row (about six times between 7:00 and 10:30 PM) and the box eerily chooses channels on its own. (Very Poltergeist.) And I still need to have the bathtub faucet replaced.

Let's see now: That's hopefully just a visit from the cable guy, but perhaps a visit from an electrician. Maybe a new refrigerator. I know I need to have the plumber back here. That's potentially a big expense, and definitely a lot of waiting around for workmen. Oh, for the glory days when all I had to do was place a single call to my janitor and ask him to take care of it! (Of course, I've had to deal with some pretty wretched janitors during my career as a renter; my favorite one used to approach everything – no matter what the problem was – by accusing me of flushing a tampon down the toilet.)

I thought I was a wee bit ahead financially, so I updated my wardrobe with some nice pieces and bought a Roomba. Now I wish I hadn't. I have a fund especially for household mishaps, but I so hating dipping into it. (Yes, I know that's what it's for. I still hate touching it.) And if I need to, I can skip a mortgage payment or two, as I'm paid through the end of year. But.But I'd rather not; I would love to get this place paid off.

Oh, well. I will try to keep my own personal thermostat low as I work through these problems by repeating my personal mantra, "tax-deductible mortgage interest, tax-deductible mortgage interest."